Rip Tide
is it the repetitive pattern of my will
that tears and traps
how many ways
to live
to try again
bitter
that first gulp of air
though they slapped me
natal skin turning blue
premature legs pulling taut
i hesitated before birth
another Grand Cross
to bear
who would wish it
but my mother says
i chose to open wide my eyes
mouth wailing
to finally accept
to breathe
to put these dry bones
back together again
god, it hasn’t been easy
but i’m still here